Then, as he realised that
he was in the presence of a lady, he made an effort as though to
release himself from the hands of those who carried him, and to
stand upon his feet.
"Pardon me, Madame," he began to say, but Faustina checked him by
a gesture.
Meanwhile old Montevarchi had carefully scrutinised the young
man's face, and had recognised him, for they had often met in
society.
"Monsieur Gouache!" he exclaimed in surprise. At the same time he
made the men move on with their burden.
"You know him, papa?" whispered Donna Faustina as they followed
together. "He is a gentleman? I was right?"
"Of course, of course," answered her father. "But really,
Faustina, had you nothing better to do than to go and look into
his face? Imagine, if he had known you! Dear me! If you begin like
this, as soon as you are out of the convent--"
Montevarchi left the rest of the sentence to his daughter's
imagination, merely turning up his eyes a little as though
deprecating the just vengeance of heaven upon his daughter's
misconduct.
"Really, papa--" protested Faustina.
"Yes--really, my daughter--I am much surprised," returned her
incensed parent, still speaking in an undertone lest the injured
man should overhear what was said.
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